


Extracurricular

by tjmystic



Series: Birthday Fics [13]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:06:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle's psychology professor is secretly an expert on sex</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Extracurricular  
Birthday Fic #13

Rating: NC-17. Very NC-17…

anon prompted: Belle’s psychology professor, Nikolai Gold, is secretly an expert on sex; especially dedicated to thestraggletag, who has waited patiently for this for a whole month - hope it meets your expectations, my lovely :)

Author’s Note: Here’s the one you’ve all been waiting for – the continuation of my Professor Gold smut! I hope it’s worth it – I’ve got the terrible feeling that I built it up too much to actually deliver :S If that’s the case, feel free to drop a message in my ask box – I always appreciate notes about how I can improve :D

Oh, and I mentioned this in a previous post, but I’ve changed the anon’s request of “Nikolai” to “Donn” (see here for explanation).

 

Her eyes met his across the crowded classroom. He paused in the middle of his lecture, eyes scanning hers for that hint of something wicked. She only nodded. But beneath her table, the one in the front where she alone chose to sit, a pair of long-nailed fingers trailed up her stockinged thighs. They traced the damp patch in her underwear, that glorious spot that showed him just how she was shaped below the cotton. She moved her fingers in tighter and –

“Professor Gold?”

Gold nearly jumped, but managed to reign himself in at the very last second. “Yes, Mr. Mendel?”

“You, uh, you zoned out there for a second,” the boy muttered, face bright red. “We were talking about–”

“Yes, yes, I bloody well know what we were talking about,” he growled. 

Greg quickly turned away, eyes downcast on his ridiculously extensive notes.

Gold groaned and removed his classes, tersely massaging the knot on his nose. Even with his sight slightly blurred, he could tell that Belle’s eyes were still trained on him. He wished she would just look away, look at something, anything, else, but his hopes were all for naught. 

It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t staring at him quite the way she was – blue eyes wide, cheeks and neck flushed, mouth slightly parted, tongue balanced on her pretty little teeth. He’d had more than enough fantasies about her face in just that expression for it to not have an effect on him. Even worse, though, he couldn’t figure out why. The staring, of course, not the fantasies – she was brilliant, beautiful, kind, and everything he could ever hope for in a human being. But he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done over the past two weeks that would warrant her attention, and two weeks ago was when she’d first started staring. She wasn’t at all subtle about it, either – her eyes bored holes into his head, for God’s sake. And when she wasn’t staring, she sat dizzily in her seat, obviously trying not to nod off. From anyone else, Gold wouldn’t have batted an eyelash – they were all idiotic and brain-dead as far as he was concerned. But Belle was his prized student. His prized everything, if he told himself the truth. This behavior simply wasn’t her. 

“Alright, back to the review,” he finally muttered. “Mr. Mendel, put that biology book away– I’m a psychologist, not a damn botanist. And anyone who so much as tries to make a Star Trek joke out of that will be docked a whole letter grade. Understood?”

The class nodded avidly, stretching forward in their seats so they could catch every word. All but three of them, anyway – Belle (who was now in the sleepy stage of her odd behavior, judging by the way her eyes had dropped to her lap), and the Jones brothers, Killian and Gaston. Gold growled under his breath – both the cretins were honed in on his Belle. It wasn’t enough, it seemed, that Killian was generally considered to be the most attractive man on campus (a fact that even Gold couldn’t ignore as much as his female students squealed over him), or that his elder brother was expected to lead their football team to its first winning season in a decade. No, they had to chase after the one girl who had absolutely no interest in either of them. The girl who just so happened to have his heart and body in thrall, too. 

His blood boiled as Gaston folded a tiny square of paper into a football, launching it perfectly into Belle’s lap. It was apparently a note, since Belle, after jolting in shock, unfolded it as if to read.

“Miss French, would you care to answer question twelve?” he demanded. He didn’t care at the moment how perverse and greedy it was of him to crave her attention, or how pitiful it was for him to be competing with boys just a third his age. He didn’t even bother to pretend that he was doing his professorial duty in warning her to focus. He just wanted her eyes, and he wanted them on him.

But he was sorely disappointed. Belle’s eyes remained transfixed on Mr. Jones’s note. A terrible thought occurred to him, one that he supposed his conscious was too kind to allow before – what if she wasn’t staring at him at all? What if she was zoned out, daydreaming about one of the Jones boys? What if she was tired because she’d spent the night in their dorm?

Gold’s nails stabbed into his palms. “Miss French, question twelve.”

She said nothing. Indeed, she didn’t even look up.

“Miss French? Miss French? Belle!”

She turned so fast that she fell out of her chair, books, bag, and purse scattering all across the floor. One in particular, a magazine it seemed, flew to the other side of the room, apparently having been in her lap while he was lecturing. It took all of Gold’s self control to keep from rushing to her aid and pelting the little whelps who laughed at her. 

“Mister - err, I mean, Professor Gold?” 

He bit back an entire dictionary worth of cusses. ”Yes, Mr. Mendel?” 

The young man flushed. ”It’s, uh, well it’s almost 6:30. Can we go?”

Normally, Gold would’ve flat-out refused and kept the class behind another half-hour for their cheek,

But he was too late - the Jones boys had already reached her, Killian at her back and Gaston near her front. Gold tried not to think of that as symbol of other activities Belle might be participating in with them.

“So, darling, any big plans for the game tonight?”

Belle shook her head, and Gold tried not to be pleased with the way she outright ignored the boys. “I’m not exactly a football sort of person, Killian.”

The rogue leaned against her desk, brushing a rugged hand over his black-rimmed eyes. “Pity. Gaston and I had a bet about how many touchdowns he could make. I thought you’d be the ideal judge.”

“I’m sorry, guys, but I just can’t,” she muttered. “Homework, you know.”

Killian leaned in even closer, his mouth balancing just over her ear now. “I’m sure old Gold wouldn’t punish you if you came out for a little fun for once. Unless, of course, you want to be punished.”

“Excuse me, boys,” Gold interrupted, unable to hold back any more. He thanked the Lord for his cane, for his legs were all but quaking with his rage. ”I need to talk to Miss French in private, if you don’t mind.”

Killian glared at him, and oh did Gold’s fingers itch to smack the sneer off his face. 

“My brother and I were in the middle of a private talk with her ourselves, professor. Sorry to disappoint.” 

“Oh, of course,” he smirked. ”But if you insist on staying behind, I must insist on asking why you’ve failed your last three assignments. Sorry to disappoint.” 

Gaston, dumbly silent and muscly as usual, cracked his knuckles as stepped behind his younger brother. Killian’s mouth twisted into a nasty grin, one that had Gold wondering how quickly he could beat the boy to a pulp. 

Thankfully, though, it didn’t come to that. Killian put a soothing hand on his brother’s arm, and then turned back to Belle.

“Well, I’m afraid my brother and I must take our leave,” he drawled. Instead of giving Belle the chance to reply, he took her hand and pressed a disgustingly wet kiss on her palm. Gaston winked, and then the two were out the door.

Belle sighed, shoulders relaxing even as she picked up her fallen magazine. “Thank you, professor.”

He smiled, however slightly, at her obvious relief. 

“Well, I’m afraid you won’t be thanking me for long. We really do need to talk.” 

Belle’s smile dimmed. ”What… what about?” 

“About your performance in class, Belle. You can’t honestly tell me that it’s been up to scratch recently.”

He didn’t miss the ice-cold glare she shot him, but he wished he had. ”No, I don’t know what you’re talking about, actually.”

“Belle -“

“Sorry, professor, but I really need to get back to my dorm so I can study,” she cut him off. “I’ll just be - oomph!”

The heel of her shoe caught on the desk leg, and she flailed to keep herself from falling. Gold automatically reached out to steady her, but her books didn’t make it out so lucky. For the second time, they scattered about the floor, pages bent and papers flying. Her magazine plopped to the ground at her feet, and, this time, it landed face-up. Belle scrabbled to get it, eyes bright with embarrassment, but it was too late – the damage was done. 

A slew of naked men, barrel-chested and buffed to an oiled glory, graced the cover of her magazine. He didn’t look a thing like any of them – sparse tan hair on his chest, week muscles except for his arms, old wrinkled skin. Gold shook his head – this wasn’t the time or place.

“Belle,” he started slowly, picking the dogeared thing off the floor and depositing it back in her hands, “maybe we should move this conversation to my office.”

Belle eyes filled with unshed tears, face bright with embarrassment Gold’s heart clenched solemnly.

“I’m fine, professor,” she murmured.

“Belle, you aren’t fine. When you aren’t zoned out, you’re trying not to fall asleep. And this…” 

He glanced into the hall again, just to ensure that they were alone – the college didn’t condone the murder of students, after all, and that’s exactly what he’d do if one of them spread his Belle’s problems. 

“I wouldn’t normally concern myself with what you do in your private time, but when it starts affecting your class work, I have to step in.”

He could tell that she wanted to bolt, to get away from him and cry in peace. But his Belle was nothing if not brave. 

“Alright,” she huffed, rubbing at her damp eyes. 

He patted her comfortingly on the shoulder, allowing his fingers to linger for only a moment before tugging away and leading them towards his office. He pushed away the memory of his very first dream of Belle, one which had happened in this very office.

“Take a seat,” he muttered, pointing at the chair across from his. ”Now, no saying ‘I’m fine’ - I need to know what’s going on with you.”

Belle only squirmed in her seat. He sighed.

“Is it a family issue? Or maybe a problem in one of your other classes?” He didn’t even want to consider the next option, but he’d have to ask if he actually wanted to help her. ”Does it have to do with either of the Jones brothers?”

She snapped her head up, and his heart died a little. Whatever she said now, that reaction had totally given her away.

“No, it’s… it’s nothing like that. It’s… well, to be quite blunt, it’s a sexual problem.”

Nightmares of the Jones’ hands on her body raced through his head. 

“I, uh… I see,” he muttered. ”Well, I’ve got Dr. Hopper’s appointment schedule in here somewhere.”

“Huh?”

Gold stopped rifling through his papers to look up. Hurt lined every sparkle in Belle’s eyes. But then, he felt like dying on the inside, too - the only reason he’d offered up Dr. Hopper was because he couldn’t stand it if Belle told him about her fantasies of other men.

“I just thought you’d prefer to talk to talk to Dr. Hopper,” he said slowly. ”Much less awkward, I’m sure.”

Belle smiled, but the hurt didn’t leave her face. “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to hear it,” she said, trying for nonchalant but ruining it with her grimace. He considered taking her hand, but decided at the last moment that that would be pushing things to far. 

“No, no, Belle – it isn’t that at all. I just wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with this. That you didn’t have any better options.”

She sighed, relief apparent in the way her shoulders relaxed. “I don’t. If you’re gonna make me talk about this, you’re the best person I could talk to.”

“And why is that?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows. He quickly ran over the potential list of reasons for Belle to trust him, but all he came up with was the number one with a question mark next to it.

Belle jerked away from his gaze as if she’d been slapped, though the rest of her posture – he noticed thankfully – remained calm. She mumbled something under her breath, too quick and too quiet to make out.

“Pardon?”

She turned to him then quickly glanced back. Again, she muttered something unintelligible under her breath.

“Belle, I can’t hear a word you’ve said,” he told her carefully, trying to sound irate. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

Her head twitched up as if attached to a spring, her eyes wide and raging with too many emotions for him to pick apart.

“It’s because I think it’s your fault!” she shouted.

He was sure he looked like something out of a cartoon the way he stared at her, but she didn’t back down. Her arms tensed on the arms of her chair, but, apart from that, she stayed stern and sure of herself. 

“I think that the reason I can’t… the reason I can’t cum, is because you aren’t there to help me,” she continued. “And trust me, I’ve tried everything. Dildos, vibrators, my own fingers. I…” she turned faintly pink, but she kept going, “I even recorded one of your sessions so I could listen to your voice. Nothing worked.”

Gold’s mouth hung so far open he was surprised it hadn’t hit the floor. Unfortunately, that still wasn’t helping him talk one bit.

“It’s clear you don’t feel the same way about me,” she stammered on, cheeks flushing redder by the second. “I mean, you didn’t even remember me when I started here two years ago. And I’d probably be breaking a dozen school rules if I tried to coerce you.”

She kept talking, her neck blushing redder and redder by the second, but she might as well have droned off. This was a dream. Gold just knew it. He’d never had two in one day before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. It seemed that a visit to Dr. Hopper was in order for him, too. He’d taken her kindness too far, and now he was dreaming about the impossible even while he was awake. Hell, she was even friends with the custodians. (Well, one custodian anyway. However standoffish Leroy was to everyone else, he was just a harmless alcoholic. The same could not be said of the others. In fact, he knew that one member of the clean-up crew had been nicknamed “that scary schizophrenic janitor who wants to kill everything” by the students. Gold couldn’t say that wasn’t an accurate assessment, either, what with the way the man hobbled about talking about oracle pigs and cauldron balls.) 

But thoughts of suspicious janitors weren’t nearly good enough to distract him from what was going on. Dream or not, he needed to know just how much of what she said was honestly meant.

“Belle,” he interrupted, grabbing her hands so she’d stop. “Do you really mean it?”

She cocked her head to the side. ”Of course I mean it,” she huffed. ”Do you think I’d hit on my professor just for fun?”

“No, of course not,” he rectified. ”I just mean… I’m trying to say that I’ve thought about you in that way, too. Since you were in highschool, actually.”

Belle smiled, but it was clear that she didn’t believe him. ”That’s very sweet of you, professor, but it’s alright. Maybe I will set up an appointment with Dr. - “

He didn’t allow her to finish that sentence. He flung himself over the desk, hauling her up with him, and smashed their mouths together. His teeth clicked hard against hers, jarring him to his brain, but he didn’t care. Belle was caramel and coffee and something perfect that was just her and he couldn’t get enough. And, according to her, neither could she.

“Do you think I was just being sweet now?” he growled, sucking on her bottom lip.

Belle’s eyelids fluttered beautifully, her lashes sweeping both her cheeks and his. ”No, I suppose not.”

“Suppose? Well, I’ve obviously done something wrong then.”

He stepped around the desk, drew her to her feet, and melded them together once more. Her hands traced up his back, digging in tight when he hit a particularly good spot, and, by the time they were finished, she was almost bent double in his arms. For the first time in his life, Gold felt like a god - he’d brought the most amazing young woman in the universe to her knees. The words “I love you” danced along his tongue, but, thankfully, she interrupted him before he could make a fool of myself. 

“Okay, okay, I believe you. But I’ll have to wait two more years to get any relief, though,” she laughed, half hopeful but half bitter.

He was about to agree, kiss her one last time and send her on her way just so he could wank to her image later. But he was a terrible man, at heart, and a greedy one at that. Who was here to tell them this was wrong? All the staff - imbeciles that they were - had left for the football game, as had all of the students. He and Belle were completely along. 

And if he didn’t take this chance, he’d hate himself for it for the rest of his life.

He moved quickly to the door, double checking that no one was lurking in the hall before drawing down his blinds. “Did you know that I started off as a sex therapist?” he asked conversationally. “For all the wrong reasons, of course – I was a horny twenty-year-old, and I thought the job would entitle me to feel up my female patients.”

Belle chuckled at him, though her confusion was blatant. “I can’t see you doing something so stupid.”

“As I said, horny twenty-year-old,” Gold shrugged, unable to remove the stupid smile from his lips as he went back to her side. ”But I actually did pretty well with my job. I learned all sort of tips, tricks, secrets.”

He didn’t mean to hiss the last word - he was hardly the model of seduction, so attempting that with her would be beyond stupid. But the way she stared at him, almost predatory the way her teeth closed around her tongue, had his heart racing and his nape sweating. Maybe seduction wasn’t out of the question.

“Where are you going with this?” she whispered.

He couldn’t answer, not just yet – her mouth was too close to his, and words seemed impossible. He removed the remaining inch and pressed a dry kiss to her lips, chaste and short and simple but enough to have him aching in his trousers. 

“I only mean to say that, if you need a sexual therapy session, I’m more than qualified.” 

Her grin was slow coming, but it was radiant when it finally appeared. ”Oh, I think that would be a great idea. Wouldn’t want my grades to drop, right?”

Gold smirked back. ”Certainly. Anything to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. In an instant, he’d hauled her from her seat, fusing their mouths together and holding her by the neck to keep her from moving too far away.

“If you don’t want this, Belle, if you’re just frustrated, I need you to stop me now,” he murmured, interspersed with gentle licks to the roof of her mouth. ”Cause if you don’t, I’m not sure that I can. I’ve wanted this too long.”

She returned his kiss, trying to keep up but dismally failing. Her lack of experience only aroused him more. ”I’m sure. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

He moaned into her mouth, then spun her around so fast that she had to grab his filing cabinet for balance. His hands skirted up to her breasts, cupping them through the thin fabric of her shirt, and he pressed his hard body against her arse.

“Alright. Then I need to warn you about where this is going to go,” he said, nipping at her hairline and the edge of her jaw. ”First thing - men are so much simpler than women.” He ground against her to prove his point, nearly driving himself mad in the process. ”We see or feel something we like, we grow, and then we explode. But women… no, women can have a variety of orgasms. Five kinds, in fact.”

Belle mewled, shunting back against him and using one hand to tighten his grip on her chest. ”F-f-five?”

“Aye. And I’m a very thorough man, you see. So, for your first… session, shall we say, I’m going to make you have one of each.”

He could tell that her eyes grew wide by the way that her temples stretched. ”I don’t think I can handle that,” she whispered.

He was a disgusting old man, because her innocence and fear only turned him on more. He traced his hand down between her thighs, pressing up and hard against her mound. ”Yes, you can. I’ll be right there to help you through it. But only if you want me to. Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you never want to see me again and I’ll switch your classes. It’s entirely up to you. Tell me what you want.”

Belle shook silently in his grasp, and Gold truly understood the meaning of torture. She was going to say no, he was sure of it. She would realize this was a mistake, realize she didn’t really need him, realized that - 

“Five, you said?” she muttered shakily. 

Gold sighed in relief against her neck.

“Yes, five. I’m sure you know the first one,” he mumbled into her ear, sucking on the lobe and praising every deity in existence that she was letting him. “It’s the one you’ve probably been trying to do yourself. See, there’s this tiny little bud –” he flicked open the button and fly of her jeans, wiggled his hand inside until she stretched on her tiptoes for more, “– your clit, and all you have to do is keep touching it.”

He pressed a kiss to her neck, scooped his wrist all the way into her underwear, and dove in with three fingers. She was deliciously wet, absolutely sopping, and he was going to have fantasies until his dying breath of this feeling on his palm. But this was about her pleasure, not his, and he peeled back the layers of her lips until he found the bump he was looking for. He barely thrummed against it, his thumbnail caressing the tip so that it wiggled, when Belle’s legs gave out and she let out a bloodcurdling scream. If it weren’t for her fingers in his hair, gripping for dear life, or the tight clenching above his fingernails, he might’ve misinterpreted the beautiful moment as pain.

“Belle?” he whispered, kissing against her temples and massaging her thighs to ease her through it. “Belle, love, are you alright?”

Belle was practically sobbing against his chest, eyes clenched shut and knees wobbling beneath her. Ignoring the pain in his calf, he bent to pick her up like a bride, careful to cradle her head as he set her on the desk.

“Say something,” he told her quietly, brushing his lips gently against her ear and tapping a gentle rhythm against her clit to ease her through it. It was all he could do to keep from spurting off in his slacks – she said she was desperate for an orgasm, but he didn’t realize just how much. 

Belle’s eyes fluttered open like a newborn baby’s, cheeks flushed, heart pounding. He held himself close to her breast so he could better hear it, and almost cried with joy when she traced his lips with shaking fingers.

“Th-th-thank you,” she stuttered. “That’s just what I needed.”

Gold pressed a reverent kiss to her cheek, brushing his knuckles softly along the sides of her breasts. She quivered in his grip, a leaf longing to be touched, and he couldn’t hold back his moan. 

“But why, love?” he finally managed to ask. “I’m so much older. I’m nothing to look at. Especially when you’ve got the Jones boys chasing after you.”

Belle dropped her head forward onto his shoulder, wordlessly asking for more. Who was he to deny her? With a gentle flick of his fingers, the first button on her blouse came undone. His eyes rolled back with pleasure – she was wearing a see-through black lace bra. 

“Killian’s cruel, and Gaston’s vulgar,” she whimpered. “And that’s all there is to them – they’re superficial. But not you. You’re a mystery to be uncovered. There’s an innocence underneath the darkness, just waiting to be unwrapped.” Gold choked when her pretty little tongue, pink as a rose petal, dipped into the curve of his neck, licking the trail of sweat all the way up his hairline. “I want you to take my innocence… but I want to take yours, too.”

His cock twitched heavily against her hip, seeking out the warmth from her words. His eyes snapped shut, too overcome to bear looking at her just yet. To bear believing her just yet. So, he pulled her in for another deep kiss before slinking down her body. 

Gold pressed a series of reverent nips and bites along the short column of her throat. The skin there was too sweet and supple to be missed, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to mark her as his own. She wigged happily under his ministrations, stretching out to give him better access. His chin dragged across the coarse lace of her bra, and he growled as he tore it from her arms, not even bothering to unbuckle it first. Now that she’d given him permission, he never again wanted her breasts to be covered in his presence. 

His mouth watered at Belle’s cherry pink nipples, throat tightening when he risked putting one between his mouth. The way she moaned made him want to stay there forever, but he was much too curious about the rest of her body to stop. He bit the right before scooting down her belly, trailing his tongue the whole way down. He expected to run into the barrier of her jeans, but his neck scratched against springy hair instead. He looked down, gulping at the sight of her naked pussy - somehow, she’d removed her bottoms while he was preoccupied. 

Gold kissed her hips, her waist, her thighs, as he slowly spread her apart. He was positively drooling by the time he returned to her mound. She was pink, pinker than any woman he’d ever seen. Her lips fell in beautiful folds, lush and full and – he whimpered – soaked with the honey of her orgasm. He leaned into her dark curls, savoring the heavy air there. Before he could dart his tongue out to taste, though, Belle stopped him with a yank on his hair.

“No, you… you don’t have to do that.” Her voice came out in a low whine that had him biting his tongue to keep from shooting off. “I-I know boys don’t like to.” 

He smiled at her carefully, half smirk and half concern, and gave her a solid lick through her lips. Belle’s head bashed hard against his filing cabinet, her eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy, and he was hard-pressed not to do the same. She tasted like heat and slick and lusciousness.

“Boys might not,” he murmured into her thatch of curls, “but any man with sense does. And Belle.” He waited until she met his eyes, her own watering with joy, before he continued. “You taste divine, sweetheart.”

Belle grinned, toothy and gorgeous and all for him, and tentatively nudged his face further down. Gold moaned in compliance, tongue immediately darting out to search her. When she simpered happily, he took it a step further and used his lips to pluck at her labia, wiggling the pink petals about until her juices coated everything from her thighs to his chin.

“Always wanted you between my thighs,” she muttered, and oh she was trying to kill him. His decision to return the favor was immediate.

He moved his head to and fro, eyes half-shut with pleasure as he lapped the nectar from her precious little pussy. His nose caressed her clit, her curls, filling him with the chocolaty scent of whatever soap she used and the hot, heavy smell of her own body. His cock banged hard against the table leg, and he released a cool hiss into her slit that had her arching into his open mouth.

“DONN!” she shouted, and he barely had time to prepare himself before her pussy closed in on his tongue, pulling him deep into her body so that his nose was buried in her liquid sugar. It smelled like heaven, her completion heightening the already heavy taste. He screamed with joy inside her, and felt her convulse once more, her orgasm never dying out but simply building and building around him. Belle quivered, her voice almost sounding pained in the intensity of her pleasure, and he pulled away to massage her thighs, not wanting to over-stimulate her into insanity. 

“Fast learner,” he mumbled, licking her through her tremors. Anything to bring her back down, just so he could build her back up. “You just had two of the ones I was going to show you. Internal and external at the same time, and multiples.” 

Belle panted in response, eyes almost black with ecstasy. “Love… your voice… but I need you in me… now.”

Gold’s prick was more than on board with the plan, but he forced himself back, standing above her so he could see her face. 

“I know this is probably a stupid question,” he started, coughing to clear up his near-unintelligible accent, “but are you sure? I need you to be sure before I actually… before I go any further.”

She nodded, lust and (he dared to hope) love shining in her eyes. “I’ve been ready for two years, Donn. Please?”

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss her lips while he took himself in hand. He hissed at the subtle pressure, and blinked down to see that the head was almost purple. A shallow gulp had him looking back up, and his mouth watered at Belle’s face – she’d seen his tip, too, and she liked it. 

Gold couldn’t hold back. In one smooth stroke, he enveloped himself in her sweltering heat, holding her face when she shook from the pleasure. She was plenty wet enough, but too tight to allow for more movement. Eyes crossed, he yanked her knees over his hips, linking her feet together beneath his balls, and pushed in again.

Belle shook, moaning indistinguishable words of praise into the sweaty air as she bucked forward. He growled in response, body still and forearms laced behind her head. “When you touched yourself in your bed, the shower, was this what you wanted to feel, Belle? Is this what you were craving?”

She arched her back off the table with an unbearably silent scream, shaking her head rapidly enough that he almost believed it was a seizure. He chanced pushing into her another inch, but whatever she might’ve said got caught in her throat along with her breath.

He paused again, panting at the primal beauty of being pulled into her body. “I won’t mind if you make some noise, Belle. No one else is in the building, and I’d love to know what I’m doing right.”

Her head banged forward onto his shoulder with a heavy thump, loud enough that he worried for her skull. He brought her back by her hair and caressed her scalp as he readjusted his arms, cradling her head as he had before.

“Everything!” Belle moaned, squeezing her thighs tight around his hips. “Donn, everything feels so good!”

He bit through his tongue, copper blood beading on his teeth, to keep from cumming. Belle thrashed underneath him when he stilled, trembling madly as she tried to pull more of him into her body.

Instead, he jerked back out, trying to find that spot that would make her spurt just as he did. With her body already taut beyond belief, it wouldn’t take long to make her explode. But then, the same was true for him, especially when he eased out to his balls. He caught just outside her lips, the skin clenching tight around him and puckering loudly as he drew away. His eyes rolled back, and he could feel himself dripping inside her body. 

“Eyes on me, Belle,” he begged, holding her close by her cheeks for a sloppy kiss. He wished he could manage better, wished he could romance her instead of letting them both be overwhelmed, but it was all he could do not to just shoot off inside her welcoming slit. “I need to see your eyes when you cum, beautiful. I want to see you let go.”

“Too… too much!” she squeaked, forcing her eyelids to flutter open. 

“You’ll be fine, I’ve got you,” he promised, spilling his tongue into her mouth so he could lazily swallow her own.

She flung back her head, using her lips and teeth to drag him with her, and clenched tight around his head. Gold put his hands between them, searching for that part of her that would have her spiraling over the edge. Belle shouted his name, erupted around him. Her hot, liquid honey ran down his cock all the way to his arse, painting him with her ecstasy. His focus splintered, causing his eyes to water and cross, and he shunted into her with more strength than seemed possible. His balls tightened, his prick pulsating in her, and he groaned at the effort it took him to withdraw – if he stayed inside any longer, he was destined to come off. 

Gold dragged himself out, ignoring both of their protests, and pressed his lips and tongue inside her. She bent double on the desk, gripping his hair hard enough to cut his scalp, and he couldn’t keep his wicked chuckle from bubbling out.

“Ag… again?” she stammered, bending exhaustedly into his hair. “I don’t know if I can, Donn.”

The sound of his name on her lips still hadn’t lost its ability to arouse him. A surge of pride fluttered through his body as his cock twitched hard, ready to go again barely a minute after he’d come. 

“Thorough, remember?” he answered, the sound somewhat muffled by the fact that his lips were buried in hers. “Five different kinds. Please, Belle, just let me.”

“Not gonna argue,” she hissed, lazily clutching at his ears and scalp.

Her gentle pressure pushed him deeper into her thighs, and he went insane at the sight of his white spunk all over her slippery lips. He darted his tongue out before he could stop himself, slammed his hand on the table by her arse.

“Fuck,” he whimpered around a mouthful of her. “Fuck, I can taste myself in you.”

She moaned into his scalp, thighs shivering wildly around his face. His tongue was lost inside her, her womb loose from each orgasm he’d given her. Fierce pride, a well of devotion and love and lust, overcame him, and he wiggled the muscle even deeper into her, trying to dive into her body as much as she’d let him. 

“Donn, Donn,” she whimpered overhead, bent double over his head and scraping his lower back. “Please, get back inside me. Please, I’m about to cum again. I need you.”

Belle’s words affected him more than he could bear. He ripped his face away, mouth dripping with her scrumptious juices, and he just managed to shove his cock back into her pussy before he exploded once more. 

Belle took him with her when she leaned back, slow and languid and catlike in her movements. He would watch her for hours if it weren’t for his drooping eyes, the aches and sores in his joints. He wiped off his mouth, smiling when she leaned in to kiss him once more. The pain was worth it if he could have her in his arms, feel her kisses, and bury himself in her darling sweet body.

Gold passed out with Belle on his chest, both of them naked and soaked with sweat and sex. They could deal with the details tomorrow, work out if they should keep this up or wait until she graduated next spring. Maybe he’d even tell her that he loved her. For now, though, he was content to hold her tight and kiss her curls, waiting until sleep claimed him, too, and he could replay everything in his dreams.


	2. Inconveniences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prelude to "Extracurricular" - Professor Gold daydreams about one of his dual-enrollment highschoolers.

Prelude: Inconveniences   
Rating: NC-17

Author’s Note: Like the title says, this isn’t actually a fic so much as it is a prologue to one of my birthday prompts. The actual will be posted on Feb. 2, and it’s called Extracurricular. But, anyway, you can thank my tumblr husband undergreatwhite for this little teaser – she was having a bad day, so it was wifey-smut to the rescue!

Oh, and Gold’s first name for this verse is Donn, reason being that Donn is the Celtic god of the underworld who’s also known as the Dark One. He was also fond of wrecking ships, especially those belonging to pirates. It doesn’t matter yet because his first name hasn’t come up, but I just wanted to put it out there :)

———————————————————————————————————

Professor Gold hated Freshmen. They didn’t know where anything was, they didn’t understand the importance of punctuality, and they thought exhaustion was a valid excuse for missing assignments. In short, they still acted like they were in highschool.

That being said, there was one group of people he hated even more - highschoolers taking extra credit courses. At least with his college kids he had the ability to berate them. He could also be a bit more forceful since the lot were past age eighteen. 

This group in particular seemed intent on driving him to distraction. Fifteen minutes into their very first exam and he was already nodding off from a headache. 

To be fair, it wasn’t entirely their fault - in fact, he had a rather long list of people he blamed for this, including his colleagues in the humanities department. Professor Ratcliffe, for example, he couldn’t wait to be rid of. Honestly, as much as the man wanked about gold you’d think that would be his last name. Long list or not, though, this bunch was still at the top of it for three rather specific reasons: 1) Mr. Mendel for his horrible timing and inane questions, 2) Miss Lucas for her constant flirting while he was trying to lecture, and 3) the tousle-haired brunette who sat alone in his front row. 

Unlike the other students, she wasn’t annoying because she was foolish or childlike. Quite the opposite, in fact - she turned everything in on time, made outstanding grades, and hung on his every word like he was a prophet. 

And that was the worst thing of all - it was immoral to fantasize about one’s students, as any decent professor would attest. But it was downright ungodly to fantasize about one that wasn’t even legal yet.

Miss French made it so easy for him forget she was so young, though. She answered his questions more intelligently than half the staff could and came to class an hour early every day with her professional pantsuits in place. Well, every day but today. Today she’d worn a skirt, pleated, that rode up past her thighs when she sat down. Worse still was that her nervous habit of twitching while she wrote had progressed to drawing patterns on her thighs. 

“Professor?” someone called from the back. Surprise, surprise, he thought when he finally managed to jerk his head up from Miss French’s legs - of course it was Mr. Mendel. 

“Yes?” Gold asked tersely. 

“Yeah, for the essay question… how long does the essay have to be?”

He didn’t think it was appropriate to flip off one’s students, but he was sorely tempted. ”Long enough. And if you ask how long that is, I’m docking you an entire grade.”

That shut the boy up. He dropped his head back to the paper and started scribbling furiously, eyes low as if too afraid to meet the professor’s glare. Gold smirked and returned to the journal article he’d been reading, hoping to actually make some leeway with it.

That hope was dashed in all of about two seconds by a little whimper.

He was about to snap at Mr. Mendel again, he really was, but the boy was still hunched over his paper, writing furiously and quiet as a mouse. There were only a few other students left - most of them had half-assed the exam and turned it in after ten minutes - and he quickly scanned the room in search of the culprit. They knew good and well that he abhorred cheating. 

The whimper repeated. Gold snapped his head to the front row, surprised that his prized student would be making so much noise. He prepared himself to call her out, to give up on her as he’d already done with the rest of them.

But when his eyes fell on her, his thoughts blew away like new smoke. 

She’d stopped tracing patterns on her thighs. Now, she was caressing the edges of her underwear, a ridiculous scrap of lace that left nothing to the imagination. She moaned as she touched further in, but her attention never left the paper on her desk. Not even when her finger drew up and down the wet patch there, visible even from where Gold stood, and her arms started to shake when she added a little pressure.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Mr. Mendel?” he growled. Growled, like a fucking animal. But then, he was watching a seventeen-year-old girl masturbate in his class, so maybe “animal” wasn’t that big of a stretch. 

“Yeah, how do we answer part B?”

Gold barely restrained himself from leaping on the boy and bashing his head into the wall. ”You answer it like any other multiple choice question - fill in a fucking bubble.”

Mendel looked like a Christmas tree - half green from nausea and half red from embarrassment. Gold almost allowed himself to smile at that, feeling more like his old self than he had in three weeks, but a low keening noise interrupted. Against his better judgment, he looked straight at Miss French, knowing it was her who’d spoken. 

He almost exploded like a prepubescent boy: It wasn’t just the edges of her underwear anymore - her fingers had entirely disappeared under that pretty plaid skirt. 

What he wouldn’t give to have his fingers -

No. She was seventeen. Seventeen, and a high school student, and entirely off limits.

“Miss French?” he snapped, trying to keep the hoarse tone out of his voice. 

She rolled her eyes, but out of pleasure instead of insolence. ”Y-yes, professor?” she moaned. 

“Could you come into the hall with me for a moment?”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and her wrist flicked up as if to plunge even deeper inside. 

“Just… just give me a second,” she whimpered, grinding against his hand. 

He couldn’t take this. He marched to her side and yanked her up by the arm, trying to ignore the delicious squelching noise she made when those delicate fingers were ripped from her body. ”No, we’re doing this now.”

He ignored the curious stares from the remaining students and let her out the door, fist clenched tight around Miss French’s elbow. He didn’t stop, either to look or yell at the girl, until he’d reached his office and closed them both inside.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he hissed, fighting hard to keep his voice low. 

He expected her to deny it. To turn bright red and smack at him for being a perv. To start crying because he’d caught her. 

What he didn’t expect was for her to press herself against him and mouth against his neck. And he really didn’t expect for her fingers to return to the place they’d just left.

“I couldn’t help it,” she moaned, rubbing herself down his front like a cat in heat. ”I’ve wanted you all semester.”

His control snapped. Rules, regulations, morality be damned - he was taking her, and he was taking her now.

He slammed her hard into the cinder-block wall, mouth on her neck and fingers replacing hers at her core. She moaned for him low in his ear, riding his thigh like she was a contestant in the fucking Kentucky Derby. 

“Oooh, professor! Professor! Professor…”

“Professor Gold?”

Gold jerked out of his seat, glasses flying to the floor in his haste. There was a sticky spot on the corner of his mouth where he’d apparently been drooling. A quick glance at his watch confirmed his suspicions - he’d fallen asleep. It was all a dream.

“Yes, Miss French?” he groused, trying to fight back the image of her pressed up against the wall.

She looked nervous, and, for whatever reason, that only turned him on more. ”I finished my test. Sorry it took so long, but I just wanted to make sure I completed the last answer.”

He waved her off, ripping the paper from her hands to keep from accidentally touching her. God knows what he’d do with even that spare contact.

“Thank you, Miss French. Have a good afternoon.”

She didn’t take the hint - she stayed standing there, looking at him as if he was mad. Maybe he was - it was taking all his concentration to keep from thinking of ways she might enjoy the afternoon…

“May-maybe you should take off early?” she suggested tentatively. ”You were making these strangled noises towards the end there. I thought you were sick.”

He was forty-five, damnit, he should’ve lost the ability to blush by now. 

“Yes, well, I’ve only got the one class after this, Miss French,” he muttered. ”But thank you for your concern.”

She brightened visibly at that, and he had to think about Ratcliffe’s multiple chins to keep from getting hard again. ”I guess I’ll see you after break then, professor. Oh, and I meant to tell you - I’ve been accepted to come here next year. Maybe you can start calling me Belle then.”

He couldn’t come up with an answer to that. He really couldn’t come up with an answer to that. Instead, he fell back to his default setting of being an unsociable bastard.

“Good evening, Miss French,” he said, sneering for good measure. 

The bloody girl just smiled at him. It didn’t help that it was the same smile he’d dreamt of when she came off around her fingers.

“You too, Professor Gold.”

He refused to watch her leave the room. If he did, he’d see her shapely little thighs bouncing out the door and have visions of being buried between them himself. Instead, he turned to her paper, intent on marking it up as thoroughly as he could.

That was his intention - in reality, she made a perfect score. Hell, she’d done better than half his Seniors. There was nothing to mark at all.

Gold banged his head against the desk, not even caring that his migraine made it feel more like getting hit by a sledgehammer. Smart, pretty, and capable of driving him to distraction after only three weeks of an audited class. 

One more year - one more year of peace, without her pretty brown hair in every class he deigned to teach. He couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or ecstatic…


	3. Self Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Gold teaches Belle how to please herself

Self Help   
Rating: hahaha *wipes tears from eyes*… yeah, this one is very NC-17, guys

anonymous prompted: he helps her masturbate

Author’s Note: Sorry for making you wait a whole month for the continuation, my lovelies. Although, side note, this isn’t the only continuation you’ll be getting of “Extracurricular”. I hope to return to this just before my finals in May. Who knows, maybe I’ll even have it finished by the time hiatus rolls around.

Alright, enough stalling. Go ahead and smuttify yourself, darling readers. (Oh, and Steph, hope this lives up to expectations *winks*):

 

Gold stirred at the sounds of whoops and hollers. 

For one odd, groggy moment, he thought he was at home, as well he should be, and someone was trying to break in. But then something shifted on his chest, and it all came rushing back – Belle’s admission, the lessons, the sex. 

He looked down with a gracious smile and kissed the crown of Belle’s curls. She shifted again – from happiness, he hoped – and he sighed when that caused her to slide down his bare cock. 

Bare…

Gold jolted up from the table. He couldn’t decide if he was grateful or not when Belle only slid down his waist, for, while it meant she hadn’t woken up, it also meant she was breathing on his already stiffening penis. She smiled lazily in her sleep, and guilt rushed through him like a tidal wave. 

He’d had sex with a student. And not just any student, but his favorite student, the girl he thought he might be slowly falling in love with. That wasn’t even the worst of it, though, he reprimanded himself, drawing his hands shamefully to his eyes. He hadn’t talked with her about the repercussions, hadn’t asked if she was on birth control, hadn’t had the fucking decency to even wear a condom. All he’d heard was that she wanted him and couldn’t cum without his help, and he jumped up to bat. What she needed was a legitimate sexual therapist, not a horny man who would use and manipulate her into orgasming five fucking times. 

And judging from the sounds outside, they must’ve slept through the whole football game, too.

Fuck.

Gold sighed – he’d have to do this sooner or later. Maybe if he chose “sooner” he could convince her to just hate him instead of getting him fired. Not that he didn’t deserve it; in fact, he was beginning to contemplate turning himself in. It was the least he could do after he’d used the poor girl wrapped around his cock. He groaned at the thought and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Belle?” he asked tentatively, shaking the young woman’s body. “Belle, sweetheart wake up.”

She snuggled deeper into him, her chin lightly tickling at the hair beneath his balls. He cursed himself and tried again, this time lifting her face to avoid another such mishap. He almost wished he hadn’t, though, when her eyelids fluttered open to reveal her brilliant blue eyes.

“Good morning, handsome,” she murmured, pressing a dizzying kiss to his hipbone. She sounded so young. He wanted to shoot himself.

“It’s… it’s still night, Belle,” he finally grumbled. “Game just ended.”

She hummed in response and tugged a bit of the skin on his waist between her lips. His balls bounced, tightening already as her sweet breath mingled with her saliva. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was sneaky, manipulative, to tell her when she was still half-passed out from cumming, but, then, he was a sneaky, manipulative bastard. Everything he’d done with her was proof enough of that. 

“Belle, I don’t think we can do this again.”

He half-expected her to joke, say that of course they couldn’t have sex again when they were both still exhausted. It would be the perfect out, pretending that he was only talking about the here and now. But Belle was too smart for that, even when she was half-passed out, and he damn well knew it. Still, he found himself strangely impressed when she propped herself up on her hands and stared him down. 

“Why not, Donn?”

His cock jerked obnoxiously in her direction, swaying helplessly as it pleaded for her touch. Gold felt like slamming his head against the wall. It was just his first name, nothing special. She’d even called him that last night when –

His thoughts froze again – she’d called him “Donn” when they were making love. Not “professor”. Not even “Gold”. Donn.

“Donn, are you alright?” she asked tentatively, brushing a strand of hair from his face. She was so kind, so loving, that it almost ripped him apart all over again.

“You called me Donn.”

Belle twisted about in his arms, pressing a tentative kiss beside his nipple before mumbling, “Was that wrong?”

It was impossible for him to hide his smile at her innocence, even in so tense a moment, but he lifted her higher to bury the smirk in her hair. “Not at all, sweetheart. I’m merely curious about how you knew my first name.”

“Well, let’s see,” she snorted. He whimpered when her breath touched his damp skin, but, thankfully, she didn’t comment on it. “It’s not like it’s written on the top of your syllabus or, say, the plaque on your office door. That would just be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”

She gave him a moment to laugh before pressing her thumb into his ribs, too light to do anything but tickle. “Now, what do you mean by we can’t do this again?”

Gold lowered his eyes, unable to meet hers with the amount of shame he felt. Looking down didn’t help anything, though, since it only showcased how very, very naked they both were. He cringed and shifted her to the side, leaning up on his good knee until he was off the desk and standing mercifully over his pants. He tugged them on as quickly as he could, point-blank refusing to hear Belle’s lustful moan behind him, and tossed his shirt at her without turning around to look. 

“What I mean is that I’m entirely irresponsible and you deserve so much better,” he groused.

He heard Belle shift behind him, saw her slide his shirt over the top of her head, and he thought it safe to turn around. That hope was dashed all to hell, though, at the image of her perched on his desk corner, eyes heavy with sleep and the remnants of her lust and hair frayed in every which direction. Knowing that she wore literally nothing under white cotton only made it harder (literally and figuratively). 

Her shoulders drew together in her confusion, an action entirely unique to her, and he had to look away when it caused her rosy nipples to peek through his shirt. “Irres – is this about protection?” she asked anxiously. 

Gold laughed at himself ruefully. “In part. I’m a good thirty years your senior and I forgot to put on a fucking condom. Imagine what the clinic here would say.”

Belle didn’t even crack a smile. “Lucky for you, I’m on birth control. See.”

He didn’t want to look at her full-on again, knowing it would be too great a temptation, but he couldn’t see any way around it. With a groan, he turned around, looking intently at the spot on her arm she was pointing at. There was the slightest indention there, whitish like an old scar, but, otherwise, it looked just the same as the rest of her skin.

“I thought it would be a good idea since I’m in college now,” she huffed under her breath. “I’d forget to take the pill, but I still wanted to be prepared on the off chance that something happened. Now, is that the only complaint you have, or do you have something else?”

Gold growled in the back of his throat – she wasn’t taking this nearly serious enough. 

“Several, in fact. For one, I’m still your professor.”

Her blue eyes burned like sharp fire. “You didn’t mind too much just a few hours ago when I was begging you to help me orgasm.”

His sac throbbed at the memory of pushing against her tight arse, of being pulled into her when she rippled against his cock. He yanked it from his mind to keep from torturing himself with it any longer. 

“About that,” he muttered. “That’s another ‘complaint’, as you’d like to call it. I… I’m honored, really, I am, that you…” He gulped, rubbing dried sweat off the back of neck. “That you think you need me to make you cum, Belle. But it’s just psychosomatic. It has to be. Maybe you could get yourself a self-help book, or talk to a friend about it, or just –”

“Stop!” she yelled. He flinched, worried for a moment that someone outside might hear her, but Belle was advancing on him too quickly for that fear to really take root. “Stop treating my issue, or-or whatever it is like it isn’t serious!”

“Love,” he breathed, trying very hard not to laugh at the bizarreness of it all, “that’s because it isn’t serious!”

She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have any problem getting off. You’re probably used to thinking about sex every twenty seconds. But not me. I never thought about sex at all until I started your class. Not once!”

Belle twisted her fingers into her hair, and Gold had to admit that she looked quite manic like that. The look shouldn’t turn him on, but he’d already crossed the “shouldn’t” bridge where she was concerned.

“I’m obsessed with it now. I look up porn, I read filthy magazines, hell, I’ve got a drawer in my dorm room stuffed to the brim with sex toys! Yeah, I could probably do with some professional help, but I think you’re better for me. I wouldn’t be in love with my psychologist, after all, but I think I might be falling –”

She choked on her words, her hand flying up as if to slap them back into her mouth. But the damage was done – he’d heard every word she’d said, loud and clear. He didn’t think his eyes could get any wider unless he was suddenly turned into a fucking owl.

“What-what was that?” he stuttered, even though he knew perfectly well what he’d heard.

His Belle – and he allowed himself to hope for just a moment that she really was his Belle – flushed all the way down to her toes. Embarrassed as she so obviously was, he expected for her to squeak and deny it, to say that he must be hearing things and that he should just forget about. He expected to have to flounder for her to finish the sentence without success. 

But he wouldn’t have found himself falling for her, too, if she weren’t so adept at thwarting his expectations.

“I… I think I might be falling in love. With you. Not just yet, mind you,” she added quickly, lifting her hands to her face so defensively that he might’ve been a cop instead of her professor, “but… but I can’t stop thinking about you. And it isn’t always about sex, before you try to throw that in my face.”

Gold took her hand in his, smiling at the gasp of surprise it emitted from her. He brought her knuckles to his lips reverently and didn’t let go until her eyes fluttered shut with what he prayed was happiness.

“I’m sorry, love,” he apologized. She shifted again at his little endearment, and he thought he might be headed in the right direction. “But you’re going to have to say that again. Forgive me, but I can’t quite believe you.”

He was glad when she didn’t take immediate offence to his doubts. Instead, she latched her fingers into his hair and led him forward, only stopping when their lips rested softly against the other’s. I wasn’t quite a kiss, but it felt more than anything he could remember.

“I really care about you, Donn” she whispered, and he pretended that she was being quiet so she wouldn’t have to move too far away from his mouth. He also pretended that it was just the chill of her breath that made him shiver, not the fact that she’d said his first name again. “Why do you think I was so embarrassed to talk to you about this? If it was just about sex, I would’ve told you in a heartbeat. But that’s not me. That’s not what this was about. I’m sorry if that makes you feel worse, but –”

“I think I’ve been falling in love with you, too.”

Belle didn’t back away from him, but she did freeze as still as if she’d been shot. “You… wait, what?” 

He laughed at her incredulity and finally puckered his mouth against hers. “I was actually thinking about it before class ended today. Called myself a fool for thinking you could ever… and, yet, maybe you do.”

She accepted his kiss even through his words, using her upper lip to catch the last syllables between her teeth. “Not ‘maybe’,” she corrected. “I know how I feel.”

Gold still wasn’t sure, but he crushed her to him all the same, shivering when her nipples poked his chest through the shirt. She moaned in tandem, and, if he wasn’t careful, this would quickly become the best night of his life.

“Are you sure?” he all but begged, unable to stop pecking the words against her lips, her cheek, her jaw. “You have to be sure about this. If you’re just in it for a quick fuck,” and God what a joke that would be, he thought to himself – he had no delusions that he looked anything more than a drowned rat even on his best days, “I can’t keep doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this anyway, but –”

Belle opened her mouth around him, and then his tongue was falling inside and it was all he could do to not shout with pleasure. She tasted so divine, so sweet, and he licked the roof of her mouth with as much gratitude as he could manage.

“If we’re falling in love, I don’t think ‘shouldn’t’ applies anymore,” she sighed.

“Just falling?” he repeated, knowing he had to be grinning like a clown now. “We aren’t already in love yet?”

She giggled and kissed him again and again, messy and sweet and totally without skill. It was perfect. “Not just yet. But maybe soon. And good thing, too. Just wanting you would make the wait painful, but if I was totally in love with you, it would be downright unbearable.” 

“Wait?” he asked, pushing her away from him as gently and lovingly as possible, caressing every inch of her skin as he settled her back against the hardwood. ”Love, I don’t know if you know this, but I think we sort of threw ‘waiting’ out the window.”

Belle tweaked a strand of his hair in punishment for his cheek. “Told you you thought about sex every twenty seconds,” she laughed. “What I meant was that I think you’re right. Not about putting us on hold indefinitely, but giving it a rest. You’re still my professor, and, much as that appeals to my kinky side,” he had to smirk at that, “I don’t think it would be right to make love with you again until I’m no longer your student.”

A thousand emotions warred inside him – awe that she was so rational, pain that he wouldn’t be able to touch her again anytime soon, rapture that she’d called their actions “making love”. It was too overwhelming for him to deal with, but Gold managed as best he could by cradling himself between her thighs and murmuring, “You’re perfect, you know that?” against her forehead. 

Belle nuzzled at him, caressing his hair in a way that made him want to melt into her touch. “Yes, well, we’ll see how perfect you think I am when a week has gone by and I’m cranky from lack of orgasm.”

Gold didn’t laugh at her this time, knowing how serious this was for her and refusing to make her feel bad about it. She was right – he had no experience whatsoever in being unable to cum straight off. He didn’t think any man did, as a matter of fact. If their own horny experiments didn’t do the trick, porn taught most boys what they were doing by the time they were thirteen. Just a few tugs in the right direction and they were set. As he’d told Belle last night, though, it wasn’t so easy for women. His past (and egregiously disastrous) dalliances were proof enough of that. If only there was some way he could make it easier for her, some way he could relieve the tension without actually being there. God knew it was the only way he could relax some days, especially after long hours with Belle in his class (and he mentally readied himself to have more of those days in the upcoming weeks). There had to be something he could do.

Maybe, though, he could not do anything at all. 

“You know,” he started slowly, allowing the idea to grow like a parasite in his mind, “I might’ve been onto something.”

Belle looked up, her eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Oh really? How so?”

He pulled a tendril of her hair around his finger – he was quickly finding it to be a calming gesture. “I think we should look into that ‘self-help’ route I mentioned.”

“Haha, very funny,” she snarked, mouth pulled into a sweet little mocking smile. He couldn’t help but kiss it from her lips, but he only let it last for second. This was important.

“Not how you’re thinking, love,” he chuckled. “More or less, I was suggesting a… second session, if you will.”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and he pulsed a bit with pride about that. “And what do you intend to teach me?”

Gold gave as good as he got, though, and, with a wicked smile, he lunged forward and took her mouth in his once more.

“Where’s your dormroom again, love?”

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

Their plan was both genius and convenient, he thought. All Belle had to do was slip her old clothes on and walk to her room which was luckily just across the street from his office. Because of the just-ended football game, neither the late hour of her arrival nor the state of her clothes would come as a shock to anyone. Not that she was likely to run into anyone – quite fortunately for the both of them, her dorm was one of the mock “apartments” provided on campus, meaning that while she had neighbors living above and below her, she was essentially isolated from any prying eyes and ears. They would be completely alone. 

Gold could hardly wait.

But wait he did. Though Belle could get away with her messy attire, they both thought it would be much too suspicious if they left the building together, especially when his tie was nowhere to be found and there was a very conspicuous stain on the crotch of his trousers. So his part of the action was to watch that Belle got to her dorm safely and wait for her to text him that she was in. Meanwhile, he would change into the spare suit he kept in his office just in case, and, once that was done, hop in his car and drive down the road behind her complex as if he were headed home. Instead, he’d park just behind it and invite himself in through the front door. Anyone who saw would assume that he’d come to berate one of his students for missing an assignment in lieu of the game, which – thanks to his reputation – wouldn’t be suspicious to anyone.

She was already undressed when he opened the door, decked out in nothing but her own gorgeous skin and the tumble of hair that barely covered her breasts. He pulled off the suit jacket and shirt that he hadn’t even bothered to button, suddenly feeling too hot to deal with them. It was a good thing she made him come into her bedroom – if she’d greeted him like this at the front door instead of the one to her private rooms, he didn’t know what he would’ve done.

“You’re stunning, Belle,” he wheezed, eyes on her face as he brushed the hair away from it. She turned cherry red, and he could tell that she was fighting a strong impulse to cover herself up. 

“Thank you, but this is more out of practicality than any attempt to seduce you,” she muttered, dropping her eyes embarrassedly from his. “I figured that clothes would just get in the way at this point.”

Gold lifted her face by her chin and tilted his own head to the side, leaning in until their lips touched and she was sighing into his mouth. He would kiss her all day if he could, just spend hour after hour learning until their lips were so chapped they’d have to stop. But now wasn’t the time for that, so he pulled himself away and balanced his forehead on hers. Amazingly, it wasn’t hard to keep his focus on her eyes instead of letting them fall to her naked body.

“This isn’t just about sex for me either, love,” he said earnestly. “You could be wearing one of Professor Mim’s pink monstrosities and I’d still think you’re perfect. Please, don’t sell yourself short.”

He couldn’t see it, but he could feel how brilliant her smile was when she dipped it into the curve of his neck, snuggling against him with teeth and tongue until he thought he might die from joy. It would be a brilliant way to go, he was sure. 

“Now, are you ever going to tell me what you have planned?” she mumbled.

He snorted and pulled her face away from him yet again, allowing himself to caress her cheek for a few moments longer than necessary. “Aye. I believe you said something about having a drawer full of toys, correct?”

It seemed like the theme for the night would be making his Belle flush red every few seconds. Gold couldn’t say he minded – she looked lovely with that trace of red to highlight her features. 

“Yes, it-it’s over here,” she stammered, almost tripping on her way to the little cabinet by the closet. He tried to keep calm as she pulled the drawer open, but it was bloody difficult when he finally saw what was inside. 

There were at least a half-dozen vibrators, all in various colors and sizes, a few plastic balls that he remembered well from his days as a sexual therapist, and three excessively fat dildos that, judging by their wear and tear, were some of his Belle’s favorite playthings. The idea of her stuffing one of those plastic rods inside her body, of riding it hard until she came screaming his name, had him stiffening in his pants. 

“Which is your favorite, love?” he gulped, loosing the snap on his pants. 

Belle flushed tomato red, but she stepped up to the drawer all the same. She deliberated a moment before pulling a red velvet clutch from the cabinet and letting its drawstring fall loose in her hand. A long glass rod, curved at one tip into a plump, rounded head rested in her palm, tapering off into a handle which she nervously took in her free hand. Gold had a moment to be thankful that, while the rod was longer, he was much, much thicker. 

“This is the one that’s brought me the closest,” she grumbled, her face tinged almost pinker than her lips. He brushed his thumb across her cheek until the flame wore down. “Now, tell me what all this is about. What do you plan to do with me?”

Her words were lightning in his spine, but the only movement he made was a gentle shake of his head.

“Oh I’m not going to do anything with you,” he said softly.

His Belle looked abjectly betrayed, and, while it almost hurt him, he couldn’t say that it didn’t please him a bit, too. That she could want him so much was a miracle in its own right.

“Then why did you come over?” she asked, already raising her arms to cover her breasts. 

He didn’t let her get too far, though. He stopped her hands at the middle of her torso, and forced her hand to clench tighter around the glass. 

“I came over to teach you something new,” he explained. “Like I said, I’m not going to do anything. You are.”

It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out where he was going, but his Belle, as always, was genius incarnate. She looked almost afraid of the glass stick in her palm, but she didn’t drop it or look away. Instead, she led them both to the bed in the corner, and, after sitting down, put the tip to her folds.

He expected her to play with herself, to put her hands on her breasts, plunge her fingers between her curls, and grant him a front-row ticket to the best show of his life. But, as usual, she blew those expectations to smithereens by abruptly thrusting herself onto the long rod, hissing when it made contact with her core. He worried for a moment that she’d hurt herself, going in dry as she had, but it turned out he was wrong about that, too – when she lifted herself back up on her knees, the thing was absolutely soaked with her arousal. His cock pulsated – if just kissing had done that to her, he couldn’t wait to find out how she’d react to a whole session’s worth of exploring her body.

She pushed herself up and down on the long dildo, shifting her hips up and out as she tried to ride it. He was transfixed, growing harder by the second, but he ripped himself away to focus. Right now, he had to act the professor once again. He had to critique everything that she was doing wrong. And, even though her movements were the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, there was plenty that could be improved upon. It was clear she was thinking too hard, trying to act on her desires cerebrally instead of just letting her instincts take over. Her face contorted in frustration every few seconds, obviously put out by the fact that she wasn’t getting any satisfaction, and then she’d compensate by riding the fucking thing even harder, holding it so tight between her thighs that it had no hope of grazing her clit. 

Gold sighed and put his hand on her feverish shoulder, forcing her to stop moving so he could take the dildo from her body. It squelched wetly on the way out of her lips, and they both whimpered at the sound. For a moment, he considered inching his middle finger up just another inch and massaging her engorged clit, wet and slick and obviously begging for his touch, but he managed to pull himself away at the last second.

“Your problem,” he coughed to clear his throat, irritated with how its raspiness gave him away, “is very easy to understand, Belle. You’re too restrained. You aren’t letting go.”

“I don’t know how,” she stuttered, subconsciously rubbing her pussy against the bed in an effort to feel something. A slight wet patch grew in her wake, and he was going to cum off himself if she didn’t slow down. 

“Come here,” he invited, holding his arms wide. She launched herself at him without any hesitation, and he burned to feel just how intensely she was trembling. She was right – this really was a problem for her. 

Careful as could be, he spun his Belle around in his arms and settled her against her chest, threading his fingers over her upper arms so that he could touch her without touching too much.

“The first thing,” he started, lifting her right hand and leading it to draw circles on her stomach, “is that you’re going too fast. I can see that you’re… desperate, I suppose, but you won’t get anywhere by rushing in. You have start slow. And you need to stop thinking about it.” He pushed her wrist up another couple of inches, and smiled when she took the initiative to touch her own breast. “See? This is all about emotion. Summon up whatever it is that makes you so hot you feel you’re about to break.”

Belle twitched in his grasp and, though she faltered, leaned her head back against his shoulder. He could see everything like this, her pebbled nipples, her quivering belly, the glistening bristles between her thighs. And she moved her hands over all of it, briefly grazing everything until she tentatively put her fingertips against her mound. She looked at him questioningly, asking if she was ready to touch yet, and he gave her a single nod. 

Belle hesitated only a moment, and then she had her thumb pressed hard against her clit while her index finger shunted into her lips. 

“That’s it,” he praised, sucking her earlobe between his lips. “Such a good girl.”

His words caused her body to convulse, and he could feel her surprise at how tight she could mold around her hand. He’d been just as shocked to find his cock so snugly embraced by her, too. 

But he drew his mind away from the memory, lovely as it was, to lick his own fingers and circle them around Belle’s toy. The idea of touching something that had just been inside her, that was still hot and wet and sticky from her touch, left him with no choice but to undo the zip of his pants.

“Spread your legs wider,” he begged, hoping that she could understand him despite his thickened accent. Whether she did or if she was just giving into her own body’s demands remained a mystery, but at least her thighs weren’t pressed together any more. He groaned at the sight and drew her glass dildo between them, spreading her juices from the tip of her clit to the backs of her thighs. When she was positively shaking, he stopped his exploration and helped her to sit up on her knees, all the while nudging the glass into her curls.

“No inhibitions, love,” he murmured in her ear. He took hold of her hips, massaged the thin hairs on her thighs. She wriggled in pleasure, and that gave him all the distraction he needed. With a single tug, he pulled the glass rod between her lips and dropped her onto it, rolling his eyes back in ecstasy at the wet little noise it made. He could feel her abdomen clench beneath his palm, and he almost spent himself on her arse in response. “Now, ride it like a fucking horse.”

“Oh Donn!” she hissed, fisting her hands maddeningly into the sheets. But she didn’t stop, didn’t fight. No, she surrendered to her own body’s demands, the suggestion he’d left in her ear, and pounded her hips into her toy. She whimpered at the sensation of being filled so fast, but he could tell that she wasn’t about to stop. This was the release she’d been wanting. The idea that he’d been the one to help her find it made him happier than he thought possible.

He held onto the handle with his own hand, groaning every time she came down on it and left a wet trail around his fingers. He wanted to rip the toy from her body, throw it at the fucking wall and lick her out for himself. He’d replace the glass nuisance with his own fingers, fuck her pretty little folds until she passed out from the pleasure. He’d suck her dry, put his mouth around her whole fucking cunt until she dripped onto his tongue. 

But he wouldn’t do it. Giving in would teach her to need him more than she already did. Worse, it would probably teach him to need her, too. 

“Use your fingers,” he whispered against her skin, licking off her sweat as soon as it beaded up. Something about her flavor changed when she was close, he noticed. It went from pure sweetness like sugar to something heavy and hot that sat on his tongue like raw honey. 

“Need… need yours,” she begged (and he wasn’t going to admit to anyone how very nearly he came at having a girl less than half his age beg for his touch). 

Much as it hurt to deny them both the pleasure, he shook his head against her neck. “No no, Belle, I can’t. This is all about you, remember.”

He could tell she wanted to argue, but need pushed her to give in, plunging her fingers against her clit and gyrating against them until she had to move them faster. A moan half provoked from relief and half from pleasure rippled from her mouth, and he allowed himself to kiss her behind her ear as a reward for them both.

“I’m close!” she shouted, humping harder and harder against the glass rod. Her honey had completely coated his hand now, and it took every fibre of his being not to just lift it to his mouth and lick it off. 

“I know, love, I know,” he whispered, thrusting against her arse now like his life depended on it. “Just pretend it’s me. Just imagine it’s my cock you’re riding, that you’re milking me for all I’m worth, Belle. Imagine that it’s me that’s filling you up, that you’re clenched around my thighs, that I’m thrusting inside you and screaming and –”

But her own scream drowned him out. One final push, one final buck against his hand, had her spiraling out of control, clawing at her own breasts in an effort to pull herself back. She sat down against his fingers, rubbing her still juicy clit against his knuckles, and that was all he could take, too. He reached down and pumped himself once, just once, before he spilt himself all over her back. The white streaks looked vulgar on her porcelain skin, but she shivered and moaned like he’d dropped precious pearls onto her body.

Both spent, they collapsed against the wall behind her bed, petting each other and cooing when they touched a particularly pleasant spot. He didn’t make it a habit to think about heaven, but, if he did, he was sure it would be nothing but moments like this. 

Gold nestled his face into her hair and breathed in the sinful smell of her sweat.

“You know, your last class with me is in two weeks.”

“Not counting exams,” she murmured sleepily. “I’ve got four in one day.”

“My poor, precious baby,” he laughed in her ear. She swatted him with the back of her hand, but he could tell by the shake of her shoulders that she was laughing, too. “Actually, I’m not giving my own final this semester.”

Belle turned her head to the side, the look in her eyes almost guilty. “You can still test me, you know. I trust you to be fair.”

Exhausted though he was, he managed to chortle into her hair. “For once, it has nothing to do with you, love,” he uttered. “I actually have a conference that week. And, while I’m there, I’m going to suggest to the dean that he move you to another psychology class. Say you’re too advanced for mine, which is true enough.”

He could feel her smile all the way to the back of her neck. “Well, if you insist, professor.”

His cock was spent, but his bollocks gave a feeble twitch all the same. Professor kink indeed, he thought. “Good. Good thing,” he muttered nervously. “Anyway, I was just… I was just thinking that, since you won’t be my student at all by that point, perhaps we might go out of town? That I could buy you dinner and, perhaps, we could see where it goes from there?”

Even after all they’d done, he almost thought she would turn him down. He feared that she would take one look at his offer and refuse now that he’d taught her how to please herself. 

But his precious woman always confounded his expectations. He imagined he’d just have to get used to that from now on. 

“I can’t wait, Donn.”


	4. Head Start

Head Start - Part 3 of Extracurricular  
Rating: NC-17

Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait, lovelies! I did promise it would be up on Monday this time, though, and at least I followed through on that one :/ Anyway, I won’t hold you up - hope you enjoy!

 

The days leading up to the conference were among the longest and most tedious Gold had ever spent.

The normal distractions of exam time, he expected – breakdowns from students who hadn’t bothered to study, bungling colleagues asking his opinion on test questions, paperwork up to his eyebrows – but he never could have anticipated so many unmitigated disasters.

The fire on the first floor (thankfully nowhere near his office or classrooms) set everyone back a couple of days. Students were apt to be paranoid around exams anyway, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that everyone was worried about an arsonist (especially when they should’ve been more concerned about faulty wiring). Either way, it was like pulling teeth to get them to actually attend class. Then one of his students – Mr. Ababa, of course – had been caught cheating, and the paperwork and meetings about that were just a great mess. At least those issues could be worked around, though. Classes could be reordered, meetings could be rescheduled. Room 112 might look like an empty prison cell from here out, thanks to the ashy walls and blackened floor, and Mr. Ababa might be permanently expelled, but they had all break to make the drastic decisions concerning that. 

Not so easily dealt with was the senior prank of letting loose a swarm of frogs from the science building. Everywhere he looked now, there were at least three of the little bastards just sitting there, staring at him. He’d never particularly thought of frogs as annoying before, but he was beginning to reevaluate his opinion. 

As if sensing that he was thinking about them, a particularly fat spring peeper jumped onto his desk, croaking once before depositing itself on his newspaper. Gold sneered and brushed it off, determined to ignore it and its hidden brethren rather than toss it out the window as Dr. Facilier, the chemistry professor, was wont to do. It was sorely tempting, though, especially when he could still hear the lot of them chirping somewhere just out of sight. 

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned all the way back in his chair. It seemed that the whole world knew he was busy and had decided to add to the chaos. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over a week, he thought. Not since the night he’d unadvisedly spent the night in Belle’s dorm room.

His hand twitched at the thought, slapping the frog all the way off the desk this time with a loud plop. He barely noticed. 

Despite the chaos that was his life, despite every hassle, despite how clearly preoccupied he was, just thinking about Belle was enough to distract him into madness. When he’d told her that she could switch classes next semester to avoid the messy truth of having a sexual relationship with him, he’d honestly thought that was the end of it. They could go on exploring each other (even he still couldn’t believe that was what she wanted), and no one needed to be the wiser. The problem with that, of course, was that they still had exam week to get through before she could officially change her courses. They’d discussed it, of course, after that first awkward class, and, when he would’ve suggested breaking it off to save them both the discomfort, she insisted on waiting it out. She wanted him, unbelievably, and they’d just have to deal with celibacy for a few more days. It didn’t help that she said she’d continue with her “lessons” on her own, or that she’d make him a journal detailing her progress, but if that was what she needed, he could take cold showers three times a day. And every day for the past week, he’d been tormented with visions of her beautiful, brown curls dangling over her books as she made notes, her vivid blue eyes staring at him with intellectual delight as he lectured. 

And if it wasn’t that, it was memories of her warm thighs clenched around her sex toy as he helped bring her off. 

With a groan, he let his head fall into his hands, using his knuckles to beat himself about his temples. He didn’t have time to be thinking about things like that, and, even if he did, he probably shouldn’t be. Regardless of their plans, she was still his student, and no matter how much his cock protested the idea, that meant he wouldn’t be able to touch her until after he got back from his conference. It was just a weekend, nothing in comparison to the year he’d spent pining after her – and she after him – but now, knowing just how sweet she felt, it felt like an eternity. 

And, yet, he couldn’t make himself stop.

Part of him, he knew, was fixated on her for purely psychological reasons. He was still a professor, after all, and, though he was trying to accept the idea that he and Belle might actually be in a relationship, it was still easier to think of her as a patient and himself her therapist. Nymphomania, or whatever brand of sexual mentality Belle suffered from, was still a thoroughly underdeveloped study, and, thus, many details of her condition went over his head. Using her as a model, a case study of sorts, could lead to him knowing more about sexual psychology than anyone else in his field. He’d never be able to publish his results, of course, both for modesty’s sake and his own scant moral compass, but it would still be an invaluable fountain of knowledge. 

Emotionally, though – and this was the part that guided him the most, loathe as he was to admit it – he wanted to solve Belle’s problem in order to prove himself a good lover. Logically, he realized that this shouldn’t have been an issue – a younger woman who claimed to suffer from anorgasmia had experienced not one but five orgasms by his hand alone. But old habits died hard, and he couldn’t shake that need to prove himself. 

He just had to keep reminding himself to wait. He would be out of town for the rest of the week – he’d thankfully miss his own exams, and, thus, wouldn’t have to suffer the sight of Belle chewing on her pencil through the test – and then they could go back to what they wanted. Just one more week. One. More. Week. 

Knock, knock.

Gold jolted from his seat, banging his knee against the desk and all but kicking that damned frog. It ribbitted angrily before thankfully disappearing, but the knock on the door sounded again. 

“Do – Professor!” a familiar, lilting voice called out. “May I come in?” 

His eyes widened, breath caught thickly in his throat. Apparently, his thoughts had the power to summon her as well as the fucking frogs.

“Professor Gold?”

“O-of course.” He cleared his throat, hoping it would make him sound like less of a dunce, and stood to his feet. “Yes, come in, Be – Miss French.”

He gave himself a moment to shut his eyes and take a deep breath, but he still wasn’t prepared when she edged open the door. He’d just seen her three days ago, but it was still a shock to his system to see her there, beautiful and open and smiling at him. If he hadn’t been afraid that it was a sign of stroke or heart attack, he might’ve acknowledged that his heart skipped a beat.

“Hi,” he greeted dumbly. “Do… do you want to take a seat?”

She looked at him curiously. Instantly, he worried that he’d crossed some line – was she not supposed to sit down in his office? Granted, this was the room where they’d first gone at it, but he’d assumed it would be fine. 

“No,” she said slowly. “Aren’t you ready to go?”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “Go? Where?”

“The airport?” Still blank, his eyebrows only creased tighter together. Belle cocked her head further to the side. “Did you forget?”

“Forget…?” 

He paused. Blinking, he looked down at the pocket watch on his desk, then the calendar beside it. Today, Thursday, was circled and marked “AIRPORT W/ BELLE” in big letters. 

“Shite,” he muttered. “The conference.”

Across the desk, Belle smirked at him. He was thankful that she didn’t mention anything else about his forgetfulness, though the flush on her cheeks said plenty on its own. 

“Your flight leaves in three hours. I figured it would be best if we left early in case of traffic.” She twisted her hands together, a nervous gesture he’d come to associate with exam time. She always did it when she was nervous. “If you still want me to come with you.” 

He paused. Her hands were still twitching, and she was staring at him a bit too intently to be casual, but, coward that he was, that didn’t keep him from almost taking the out she’d provided. When they’d first decided on it, the idea of her driving his car back from the airport seemed like a perfect solution. He trusted her, for one thing, much more than the imbeciles that called themselves security, anyway. Not to mention she was wrapped naked in his arms after giving herself an orgasm for him. Under those circumstances, he probably would’ve agreed to give her his kidney. But now, a week after the fact, he couldn’t think of anything worse. He barely managed to hold onto his senses when she was in his class – if they were locked up in a car together, even if it was just for half an hour, he didn’t know what he might do. And, bastard that he was, car sex seemed like an excellent prospect.

But she was still his student. For one more week, he’d promised he wouldn’t touch her. She was still his student.

She was also still standing in front of him, barely hiding her anxiety and embarrassment. 

Inwardly kicking himself, he forced a smile, and nodded at her.

“Of course I still want you to come. Why would I not?”

She brightened instantly. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be relieved about it – his guilt was assuaged, but her smile made his pants feel just a bit too snug. 

“Good,” she sighed. “That means I’ll actually have time to talk to you before you leave. I’ve been meaning to say something for a few days now, but something keeps coming up. Is this coming with us?”

She gestured to the lone suitcase – thankfully bereft of frogs – in the corner of his office. He’d packed it nearly three days ago in preparation. Sometimes, his forethought paid off in his favor. Other times…

He cleared his throat, then nodded at Belle.

“Yes.”

Helpful as always, she leant down immediately to get it for him. He wanted to tell her not to bother, that he could carry the damned thing for himself, but he couldn’t quite get his tongue to work. As it was, his mouth had gone dry at the sight of her firm, rounded arse pressed tight against the fabric of her skirt, stretched taut as she bent over to grab his bag. He didn’t stop staring even after she flung the carry-on over her shoulder and started to march out the door.

“Coming?”

He bit his tongue – she had no idea – and focused on following after her. 

One more week, he thought to himself, trying to look anywhere but her delicious legs. One more week. I can do this…

————————————————————————————————————————

He should’ve known better.

He should’ve known it would be too much temptation to have her sitting there, right next to him, just an arm’s length away. 

For the first few minutes, at least, he managed to act normal, engaging her in conversation about her studies and what classes she was most looking forward to next semester. But, at some point, her voice had become all too distracting, and though he loved talking with her, he couldn’t bring himself to focus on her words. All he heard was her beautiful, lilting accent, calling him by his first name now that they were away from campus. After that, he was shot. Her eyes were too blue, her lips too full, and when had she started wearing perfume? Worse, it smelt like roses, the only flower he actually enjoyed.

And, as if he wasn’t in enough trouble, some idiot’s car had stalled up ahead, and now the whole damned road was blocked. 

Leaving him stuck, with Belle, just one measly block from the airport, and trying to focus on literally anything else.

At the moment, it was how tightly he could grip his steering wheel before his fingers turned purple.

“I hope that person’s alright,” Belle murmured, craning her neck towards him as if that would give her a better view of the cars ahead. If not for the fact that she didn’t have a single conniving bone in her body, he’d have guessed she was trying to torture him on purpose. “

Her hair brushed his shoulder, sending another waft of that rose-like perfume toward his nostrils. He squirmed in his seat, feeling more like a dog in heat than a man, and forced himself to keep looking at his fingers. They were dark red now.

“Mmhm.”

He could see her looking at him in his peripheral, so he turned away and leaned closer towards the wheel. Belle hummed, then scooted back to her own seat. He could still feel her eyes, though.

“Do you mind if I turn the heater off?” she asked. “It’s getting a little hot in here.”

A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched – hot indeed – but he managed a terse nod all the same. He tried not to follow her thin, dainty fingers as they twisted the dial, but it was fruitless. She had the loveliest hands, chipped nail-polish and all. He used to watch them all the time when she took notes, but the last few days had been unbearable. Fantasies were one thing, but now he had memories to think on. Now he knew what those hands felt like in his hair.

He clenched the wheel. One more week, he reminded himself.

“Well, it doesn’t look like we’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.” She paused, eyes still on him, and cleared her throat. “And, uh, since we’re here… well, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Again, he nodded. He didn’t even know what she’d said – it was drowned out beneath his mantra of “one more week”.

Again, she squirmed in her seat.“I know we promised to be professional until after you got back from the conference, but I thought this was important. It’s, um… it’s about our… lessons.”

There, his knuckles were finally starting to turn purple. “Mmhm.”

“It’s… kind of important. To me.”

And now they’d gone from purple to blue.

“I’ve made some progress. I can… by myself… I… Donn?”

Another few minutes and he was sure they’d turn grey. Or fall off.

“Are you listening to me?”

One more week. Just one more fucking week.

“Donn?”

“What?!” he snapped. 

Belle sprung backwards, staring at him as if he’d slapped her. Her surprise didn’t last long – he blinked, and then she was glaring at him, one eyebrow arched high into her hairline. Had he not been mad at himself for shouting, he might’ve laughed. Even shocked, his Belle was a force to be reckoned with. He should have known – that passion about her was one of his favorite traits. 

He dropped his eyes, trying not to let them linger on her legs, and looked out the windshield. Traffic was still at a standstill, and it didn’t look like it would be moving anytime soon. Just his luck. Not only did he have the most beautiful woman he’d ever known sitting just a foot beside him, but he’d managed in all of three seconds to make her angry at him. A new personal best, he thought. Especially considering how patient Belle usually was. 

He was trying to think of some way to apologize without actually looking at her when he heard the noise. 

For half a second, he thought it might be the cars ahead. He even allowed himself to fantasize about driving the last mile to the airport in silence, and then explaining himself to Belle over the phone when he was a safe distant away. But nothing moved. Nothing in front of him, anyway. In his peripheral, he could see Belle squirming in her seat. Another sound followed. And this one didn’t sound mysterious – it sounded like a moan.

“Belle?” he asked worriedly. “Are you –?”

Whatever he was about to ask died on his tongue. There, just a few inches next to him, Belle sat, legs spread wide, with her hand between her thighs. Moaning.

Some part of him should have been confused. Maybe even worried – they were out in the open, and if his car windows weren’t tinted, anyone would be able to see what they were doing. But seeing her skirt pushed to the side, her tights rolled down, and that flesh he’d so missed these past seven days shot his thought process to hell. 

One more week, he reminded himself feebly.

“Wait, Belle… what–?” She bucked into her hand, and his breath left him in a whoosh. “Oh fuck.”

“Well,” she gasped, her fingers circling a little higher, “you weren’t paying attention to my words… so I figured I’d have to give a… visual presentation.”

She paused, opening her eyes so she could see him. Watching him, as she continued to move her hand. 

His blood went south faster than he thought was physically possible. 

He cleared his throat, loudly, as if that might make the situation better. It didn’t. It made him feel even more lightheaded, and it didn’t do a thing to make her stop. If anything, it made her speed up. Her hairline was starting to bead with sweat.

“Belle.” He stopped, groaning at himself – it was bad enough that she was moaning, now he was, too – and tried, again, to clear his throat. “Belle, we can’t – not here – I’m still your professor.”

The reminder made her hiss, gyrating even lower onto her knuckles. He’d thought that kink would pay off for him – he didn’t imagine it would just make him pay. And she was still staring at him, even as she brought herself off in his front seat, and, God, that wasn’t helping matters. 

She smiled softly, drawing his attention away from the motion of her wrist. It might’ve looked wicked, filthy, on someone else, but Belle managed to look completely guileless. Like she didn’t know how she was affecting him, despite the fact that her own gaze had dropped to stare at his crotch. 

“We’re… we’re not on campus now, are we?” Her cheeks burned red, belying the minx-like image she was working so hard to present. That was the last straw – staring at him with lust-filled eyes, one hand inside of herself, she was still the shy, intelligent woman he… well, she was still the Belle he knew. “And… you don’t have to help. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Our last… lesson, worked. I can… I can do this on my own, now.”

He didn’t hesitate. One more week could go fuck itself. 

“Show me.”

A small, nearly helpless noise left her mouth. But she nodded. 

With some careful shuffling, she managed to arrange herself so she was leaning against the window, one leg curled underneath her, the other braced against the glovebox. Her left arm rose to clutch her chest, kneading her breasts above the shirt in time with the right hand on her cunt. He could see her fully, now, dripping wet, leaking onto his seat. He didn’t give a damn – she’d never looked more beautiful. 

“You’re staring,” she murmured softly, that soft, wonderful smile still playing at her lips and the blush still riding high on her cheeks. “How… how do I look?”

He felt dizzy, mouth dry and head spinning, but he still had enough sense to know that she was nervous. And yet, she was still doing this for him. He would’ve laughed, if he could – it never failed to amaze him just how brave she could be. 

Swallowing, he sat back against his own window for a better look. He could tell that her hand was shaking now, trembling nearly as much as her thighs as she touched herself. It shielded her from his view, though, hiding all but the thick curls that circled her mound. 

He reached out, intent on sliding her hand away himself, then thought better of it. If he touched her, even just her wrist, the last shred of control he was clinging to would snap. His fingers twitched as he drew away.

“Move… move your hand,” he coughed. “Just a little.”

She nodded, drawing her hand back towards her stomach. Her middle finger slipped wetly from her pussy, coated and sticky, and she whimpered when it grazed her lips. He knew he had to be tenting his pants, maybe even soaking them a bit with precum, but he couldn’t care. He leaned in closer, following the scent of her arousal, heavy, now, in the air around them. 

“Your clit,” he murmured, staring as she circled the tiny nub with her fingernail. “It’s… swollen. Thick, pink. Just as erect as I get, when I think about you.”

“Oh God,” she groaned. “Keep… keep talking.”

Smirking, he shifted so that he rested even closer to her. “You’re soaked, love. I know what you taste like now, and you look… so delicious. How does it feel?”

She writhed. “Good. So good. I’ve… I’ve been so worked up. Feels good, to… to –”

“Rub one out?” She snorted at him, and he allowed himself a short laugh of his own. “Trust me, Belle, that’s the only way I can deal with having you in class with me. It’s been a very, very long week.”

“I know. Stupid morals,” she chuckled. The laugh was cut short when her fingers slid fast against her clit, morphing into a strangled sob. He echoed it, shifting as much as possible to relieve the tension between his thighs. “I’m… I’m close.” 

“You can do it, sweetheart. Just a little more.” Against his better judgment, he let his hand fall to his crotch. His cock strained against the fabric, eager for more touch. Her touch. He ignored it, content to just palm himself as he leaned ever closer. “I’m so, so proud of you. You can cum for me now, Belle.”

Those words did it. Thrusting weakly into her hand, Belle spasmed, dripping darkly onto the front seat as she ground down against it. His cock ached at the sight, but he forced himself to keep watching, drinking in the sight of her losing control. She looked so surprised, so shocked, that she’d done this to herself. For herself. 

He didn’t realize until he opened his eyes a moment later, body shaking and eyes watery, that he’d come with her. His hand brushed the dampness behind his trousers, then flopped away.

Limbs limp and fluid, Belle sank back into the cushion. Her eyes flickered like she wanted to shut them, but she kept looking at him all the same. Both of their breathing was ragged, heavy, taking up as much space inside the car as the smell of their combined lust. He wanted to touch her so badly, hold her in his arms and feel her for himself. He wanted –

HOOOOOOONNNNNNK!!!!

Gold jumped, banging his head roughly against the window. The horn blared again, and, this time, he managed to refocus on the road in front of them. It seemed that traffic had finally cleared up.

Huffing, he righted himself once more in his seat, and, pretending not to notice the wet spot in his trousers, put the car back in drive and continued on. 

The last mile passed in a blur. He could hear Belle panting, feel her body heat radiating over to his side of the car. It was all he could do to keep from driving into oncoming cars. 

Somehow, though, he made it to the drop-off lane with minimal injury. Hands stiff, he put them in park, looking decidedly, as he had before, at anything that wasn’t Belle. He straightened his suit jacket, checked his pocket for his tickets, smoothed out his pants, checked his pocket again. Finally, with nothing left to do, he grabbed his bag from the back seat and swiveled back towards Belle.

“So… this is where I get off.” 

He winced, realizing his mistake in wording as soon as he’d made it. Thankfully, Belle didn’t see fit to mock him over it. When he finally mustered up the courage to look at her, though, he noticed that she was grinning. He also noticed that she’d managed to right her skirt and roll her tights back up. 

“I’ll take good care of the car.” 

“Aye,” he laughed. “Well, you can’t do a worse job than the security here, can you?”

She chuckled. A corner of her mouth twitched, as if she wanted to say more. But, thankfully or not, she decided to stay quiet, leaning forward, instead, to press a quick kiss to his cheek. It burned as much as any touch their first night together had ever dared to.

When he drew away, he felt a subtle weight in his left breast-pocket. He looked down, confused, then went still. The sight of drenched blue cotton – her underwear – had his stomach doing flips.

“Something to help you… take care of yourself. If you need to, later.” Her cheeks burned bright red, but, when he expected her to drop her head, she only stared at him more intently. “Does it count as joining the mile-high club if you’re alone?”

Against his thigh, his cock gave an eager twitch – it seemed he’d be needing it sooner than she thought.

Behind them, another driver laid on the horn. His eyes narrowed – if Belle wasn’t with him and he didn’t have a flight to catch, he’d be sorely tempted to teach the person some manners. As it was, he managed to reign himself in, taking a long, deep breath before he opened the car door. 

“I’ll… I’ll call you,” he mumbled quickly. “When I get there, I mean.” 

Her eyes lit up his whole body, just as they lit up her face. “I’d like that.”

He nodded. For just a moment, he allowed himself to touch the back of her hand, stroking it with the tips of his fingers. Then he drew away, knowing that anymore would be too much, and all but sprinted to the terminal door. He still heard her, though, when she climbed into the seat after him. 

“See you when you get back,” she called, grinning. “Maybe you can teach me something else.”

He smiled back, however bemusedly, and waved.

One more week…


End file.
